Death Doesn't Discriminate Between the Good and the Bad
by Villanela
Summary: In which, there's another way. Klaus Mikaelson/Death


**Spoiler Alert. If you have not watched the Originals' series finale, watch it then come back. If you want.**

 **Now, a small note. I truly believed during the episode that _someone_ would've found a way to save Klaus. It was incredibly tragic. And then Elijah? My heart broke into tiny tiny pieces.**

 **In a fictional grief-stricken mode, I wrote this. A bit of fun to take my mind off things. Also, what are you opinions about the finale? Did you like it? Do you disagree with it? Did you cry your eyes out? And finally, what do you think of Legacies, the spin-off?  
**

"While this is tragic and all," a voice drawled out. "It is also utterly avoidable."

Almost awestruck, Klaus and Elijah, on the verge of committing suicide at each other's hands in a noble- and really, she _understood_ their motives -sacrifice, stopped.

"I beg your pardon me?" Elijah, ever the silver-tongue, stuttered. The tear streaks were still evident on his face.

"No need to beg."

The woman stepped into light, having been half hidden in shadows before. In the dark, her hair was almost indistinguishable from its blackness. Long and luscious, half of it was hanging over her shoulder and reaching past her waist. In contrast, her eyes glowed brilliantly, a couple shades away from being completely white. High and sharp cheekbones stood stark, softened by her long lashes and full lips.

"Really," she said, sounding like what the myths would describe a siren's voice. "I'm here to help. Cross my heart and hope to die." Her red lips sharpened into a smirk at the last word.

"Help how?" Klaus demanded tensely, trying not to let hope show in his tone.

"It's quite simply." She stepped towards them. An icy draft of wind passed alongside her, causing both the Originals to shiver. They stayed alert and coiled to attack as she passed them, stopping for a moment for them to make eye contact, then gracefully sitting down on the bench behind them.

One of them cleared his throat. She ignored him, focusing on running her hand over the wood of the bench, then seemingly becoming fascinated by her fingers. She stretched and curled them, turning her palm this way and that.

"Well?" Klaus said impatiently, irritated.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, still admiring herself. "It's been a while since I manifested into a physical form."

Klaus and Elijah exchanged alarmed looks.

Elijah hesitantly asked. "By _manifested_ , you mean…"

"You can't really see Death, now can you?" she said. "Unless you're unfortunate enough to be on the verge of dying, which you are," she clarified. "Usually, it's more in your head than in corporal form, but I'm not complaining."

"Who are you?" Elijah asked cautiously. He felt ridiculous as he said, "Death?"

"In the simplest terms, yes." _Death_ , apparently, replied serenely as she relaxed back into the bench, looking down

"How are you supposed to help?" Klaus demanded. " _Why_ would you help us?"

"Because," she said, abruptly drawing herself to her full height. She took steady and deliberate strides towards them. "Niklaus Mikaelson, you've been around a _long_ time. The death of a being as old and powerful such as you would have consequences. The same applies to Elijah. _Two_ Original vampires? You'll rip a hole into the cosmic plan."

Klaus' mouth was almost hanging open from disbelief. "W-why- How could I affect anything by my death?"

Her red lips twitched into a barely smile, enough to show her amusement. Or maybe admiration. "When you've lived for a thousand years, killed even more people, triggered and activated a _werewolf_ curse and has the ability to sire hybrids, one must imagine what your successor would do in your stead." She tilted her head, voice lowering. "Newer, bigger, _badder_."

"My successor," Klaus breathed, almost growling. "Hope."

She nodded solemnly. "If tonight had gone directly by your plan, Hope would've lost a friend, an uncle, a mother, and a father in the span of one month. Even you Niklaus had your family all this time. Quite frankly, I'd rather deal with you. As the saying goes, the devil you know."

"She has a family," Klaus snapped through gritted teeth. "And don't you think if I had a choice, I wouldn't leave my daughter? There is no other choice."

"And I-"

She cut Elijah off. "I've heard your monologue. As I said," she told him tonelessly, "Tragic."

"Then what's your deal?" Klaus bit out. "Are you saying there's another option?"

"Oh, honey, no," she murmured, reaching to grasp the sides of Klaus' head. "Everyone knows Death doesn't give you a choice." And with that, she forcibly brought their lips together. A blue glow that was too familiar to them Mikaelsons briefly passed in the gap between them.

Breathless, she pulled back from him and in a surprisingly violent manner, twisted his neck to the side.

Rebekah almost fainted when Elijah came back to the compound with an unconscious Klaus in his arms.

"What the hell…" Marcel supported Rebekah and gently moved her to the side to race to Elijah. "I thought you-" He met Elijah's abnormal wide eyes. "Did you change your mind?"

"No," said Elijah. "Yes-no. I mean." He closed his eyes to collect himself. When he opened them, nothing had changed. The members of his family were gathered around him in varying expressions of relief and concern and grief.

He lowered his brother to the ground and straightened, adjusting his suit. "We met an interesting character tonight." Looking more unhinged and vulnerable than anyone had ever seen him, Elijah said, "I think we met Death."

A second after that shocking revelation, Klaus Mikaelson gasped back to life.


End file.
